Getting schooled on the iPad

I’m a grown man - just - and I still don’t even know what Excel is actually for, beyond raising the average number of confused looks in any office in which it is deployed. But an iPad? We are talking about one of the simplest, most intuitive pieces of technology to be invented in the past 20 years.

I write this on the evening of the launch of the iPad 3. Or HD. Or 2.75. Or 360. Or whatever Apple choose to call it. I can’t claim to be that interested – especially since, by the time you read this, it’ll be out, dissected, digested and regurgitated all over the Internet. But then, I don’t really want to talk about the iPad 3. I want to talk about something rather more interesting.

Earlier this week, I came across a story about a drive to give products like the iPad to South African teachers, for use in their classrooms. Senior teachers (I loathe the word ‘educators’, which is as limp-wristed as the word ‘learners’) reckon this would spur on the development of computer skills, and result in more interested and interesting pupils.

And so it would – after all, what kid doesn’t enjoy the chance to jab their finger at several thousand rands worth of sexy hardware? And even when the accounting teacher’s breast implants aren’t available, they can still have a go on an iPad. It’s a brilliant idea.

But then again, the scheme has been criticised because it is felt that some teachers simply won’t be able to deal with the new technology. Indeed, the head of PETS (Programme for Educational Tablets in Schools), Michael Rice, has said, â€œYou can’t simply give every teacher an iPad and leave it at that.” According to Rice, teachers – many far less technologically savvy than their pupils – simply won’t cope, dissolving into a fit of nervous hand-wringing and toyi-toying.

Get real. I could understand this argument if Rice were in favour of bringing in, say, Excel lessons for primary school kids. I’m a grown man – just – and I still don’t even know what Excel is actually for, beyond raising the average number of confused looks in any office in which it is deployed. But an iPad? We are talking about one of the simplest, most intuitive pieces of technology to be invented in the past 20 years. It takes zero technological ability to master an iPad. Five minutes of playing around, and you’re a master. All it requires is an ability to read and a basic level of curiosity. If, as a teacher, you do not have these two things already, then I’d submit you’ve got bigger problems on your hands.

Teachers do not need support for iPad use. They do not need training, beyond an elementary two minute explanation. The only obstacles to this plan that I can see are the funds to get the iPads (always a bugger), the know-how to keep them safe from thieves (ditto) and the faith that stupidity won’t rear its ugly head and have teachers and pupils mistaking an iPad for a cricket bat. But then, that’s not something you can plan for.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to camp outside the Apple store. Because despite myself, I’m a hopeless addict. I was lying earlier about not being interested.